Weddings and other wonders

Even at fifty percent scale, it's big

So here's how it all went down.

Back at Christmastime we received a Save the Date card indicating that on June 17, 2022, our nephew's daughter -- our great-niece Camryn -- would be getting married in East Tennessee.

In due time as spring rolled around and pollen coated everything outdoors and many things indoors, we received the follow-up: A wedding invitation.

Shortly after that I was watching a documentary about some crazy person or other when, towards the end, the camera followed said nutcase as she was driven along the Parkway in Pigeon Forge.

Weigh anchor, mates

And past the Titanic museum there.

I was like, whaaaat?

I had not been to Pigeon Forge in thirty years. It's not my scene, although I have nothing against those whose scene it is. To each his own.

And in addition to not having seen this particular Titanic museum (I realize there are several worldwide), I had never heard of it.

We got these boarding pass souvenirs just for showing up and staying afloat

But soon after watching the documentary, I had hatched a plan which I thought would go swimmingly with our attendance at the wedding of Camryn and Christian.

Because you see, our own forty-third wedding anniversary was on the day before their wedding.

So it was that on the morning of June the sixteenth, forty-three years to the day since I was a bride, TG and I set out for Pigeon Forge.

Our Titanic tickets were for two-thirty and we got there early, so we went to Dunkin' and enjoyed cornbread donuts.

TG didn't make it ... RIP David Livshin

I also inhaled a glazed and TG had a second treat as well. It was our anniversary! Plus I enjoyed a wonderful cup of coffee and he had something cold.

Back at the Titanic Attraction, we took one or two pictures outside, then begged to be allowed onboard a few minutes early.

It was by then triple digits in the shade, so we avoided the shade, but felt sure we'd be more comfortable in air conditioning.

A nautically-dressed employee scanned our tickets on my phone and we were admitted, then told to pause and look up while our picture was taken.

We sprung for the whole picture package

A glance at our boarding passes told us that TG was a twenty-five-year-old third-class Jewish passenger named David Livshin, emigrating from Manchester, England, to Montreal, Canada.

I was a third-class Irish (County Mayo) passenger named Bridget McDermott.

Once inside, we began our tour of the many artifacts and so forth that populate that seriously amazing place.

It was much too crowded, which was annoying for me because I don't know how greedy they have to be, to let in so many people that it is actually difficult at times to really see anything.

They simply tell their stories and simply take your money. Click to embiggen.

It's not like the whole culture that has been built around the Titanic disaster is going anywhere, or that people will ever cease to be fascinated by its every detail.

Or that people will ever stop making money off it.

At any rate we finally made it to the Memorial Gallery, where TG found out that he had not survived the voyage, and I learned that my plucky Irish lass had got out alive.

Since I myself am Irish (County Cavan), I had more than one reason to rejoice that Bridget had lived to tell the tale.

Ember spread few petals but a great deal of happiness

Later we set sail for the Hilton Garden Inn in West Knoxville. TG got a trolley and we loaded our things onto it. Usually TG is the one to push the cart to the room, but it was a small one (cart, that is) and not too laden down, so I decided to be the navigating officer.

At the bank of elevators, a considerate gentleman held the door open for us even though he himself was getting out. I thanked him and and then promptly grazed him with the edge of the trolley because I couldn't see where I was going due to our hanging clothes.

I had a sinking feeling at having done that but he was super nice about it, said I'd done no harm (it's not like he was an iceberg), and up to our room we went, on the fourth floor with a view to the west.

After moving into an exceedingly pleasant room, in which you just press a button to raise and lower the sheer and blackout screens at the huge window, we rested for a bit before going out to dinner.

Dan escorted his only daughter down the aisle

I wanted to eat at Calhoun's on the River, where they serve the most divine Spinach Maria that anyone has ever tasted. I've never ordered the ribs for which Calhoun's is famous, but anything you get there is good.

At least I hoped it still would be; it's probably been eight to ten years since we last ate there.

We got to Calhoun's at about seven thirty and were told the wait would be close to an hour. As has been the case for many months now, the problem isn't that the restaurant is packed out; it's that there are not enough servers.

There are about half a dozen chairs in the Calhoun's waiting area and they were all occupied, so we stood.

Our hearts will go on

About twenty minutes in, a chair became vacant and a lady began gesturing -- I thought, to a teenaged boy sitting a few chairs down from her.

But it turned out that she was in fact gesturing to me, inviting me to come and sit beside her.

I gladly did as I was told and we began chatting about why we were in Knoxville and so forth.

They were visiting from a small town in Middle Tennessee because their son (the aforementioned teenager) was playing in a baseball tournament all weekend.

Our Andrew was ring bearer at Dan and Chelsey's wedding in 1997

And you know why we were there, and soon my new friend did too. She is a schoolteacher and we had such a nice time talking.

We hadn't been getting acquainted for long when a man walked up and was introduced to me as my new friend's husband.

Aren't you staying at the same hotel as us? he asked. The Hilton Garden Inn?

I must have looked confused (not at all an unusual occurrence) because he said, I'm the one who held the elevator door for you!

The bride and groom, happily married

Oh! I said. The one I hit with the luggage cart! Again I am so sorry!

He laughed and said Oh haahaha you're good, and we all marveled at what a small world it is.

Eventually we went our separate ways, to be seated at tables overlooking the Tennessee River at dusk, and TG and I had a delicious meal. I chose the fried catfish to go with my Spinach Maria. 

While we were there, Andrew texted to tell us that the air conditioning was not working in the reception venue for Camryn's wedding the next day. He and Brittany were at the rehearsal dinner.

Our darlings from Oklahoma were there

How and why was that the case? Because Ember was the flower girl! Andrew and Brittany had traveled all the way from Enid, Oklahoma, for Ember to be in the wedding.

(Andrew was the ring bearer for the wedding of Camryn's parents, our nephew Dan and his wife Chelsey, twenty-five years ago.)

Noooooooo, I texted back. It was going to be a million degrees outside. I was glad I'd brought two dresses, not knowing which one I'd feel like wearing on the day.

One was cooler than the other, so I mentally chose it and tried not to fret about how hot it was apt to be for the nuptial festivities.

The wedding color was French blue and the newlyweds' last name begins with a B

The next day we mostly took it easy, then got ready and set out mid-afternoon for the wedding venue, which was more than an hour's drive farther west than we already were.

The traffic was pretty intense, it being a Friday. The wedding started at five thirty.

In due time we made it and were reunited with Andrew, Brittany, and Ember, who looked stunning in a white dress with a lace cutout heart on the back and a fluffy tulle skirt.

We went inside the chapel and were seated near the front, and saw TG's brother Ron and his wife, our sister-in-law Marcia, the bride being their granddaughter.

They made their getaway in a barrage of bubbles

TG's and Ron's sister, Ruth, was also there, and she sat beside us and it was so good to see her. It was she whose house burned exactly one month before, on May 17th.

Ember was less than assiduous at flinging petals from her basket but she was so cute coming down the aisle that it didn't matter.

She clambered up the steps of the platform and went straight to her great-grandfather, who, along with his own brother, was conducting the marriage ceremony.

(Camryn's new husband, Christian, grew up in the church in Florida where Brittany's grandfather is the pastor.)

Christian raised his wife's hand in triumph

The ceremony was beautiful and soon enough the couple were pronounced man and wife and marched out happily into the sunshine.

Then there was a flurry of picture-taking and everyone began making their way to the reception room about fifty yards away, in the ground floor of an inn overlooking Watts Bar Lake.

As soon as I entered the venue, I realized that the recently-uncooperative air conditioning had been repaired -- or at least had found its second wind -- and was working fine.

We located our seats and were treated to a delicious meal plus wedding cake, and it was most enjoyable.

Ember was entranced by the bubble vials

Later, after the newlyweds had left, we Webers gathered in a big circle of chairs and visited for an hour or so.

At about nine o'clock it was time to say goodbye, and although we were reluctant to see the party end, we were also eager to put on our comfies and sit up in the bed looking at our devices, haahaha. 

You know how it is.

The next day, on the way home TG and I stopped off in Spartanburg and had burgers at Fuddruckers. It was fantastic although they tend to be stingy with the fries.

The siblings. No one is getting any younger.

And then it was Father's Day.

Audrey and Erica had planned a sumptuous dinner at Cherica's house. We had brought our change-into clothes with us so that we could be comfortable for the afternoon.

There were thick sirloin steaks and brats grilled to perfection by Chad, plus a colorful veggie tray and various other delights, followed by key lime pie and coffee.

In due time we changed back into our dressier clothes, freshened up, and returned to church for the evening service.

It did not arrive in time for the actual day, but by Wednesday Audrey had received a shirt she'd ordered for her dad (Erica may have contributed; I'm not sure), and she brought it along to prayer meeting, to give to him.

I had seen this on Instagram and forwarded the link to the girls.

It's a tee shirt bearing this sentiment:

DEAR DAD, GREAT JOB

WE'RE AWESOME

THANK YOU

He was not expecting a shirt like this

And there are four sunglass-wearing adult children -- three girls and one boy, labeled Stephanie, Audrey, Erica, and Andrew.

TG loves it. He wears it all the time.

And now we are anticipating a truly special and exciting Fourth of July weekend. There's a church social on Sunday night, and on Monday we are gathering for a rather spectacular barbecue.

I will tell you all about it next week, and share my recipes.

Meanwhile I wish you a marvelous time over this holiday weekend, celebrating Independence Day with your family and friends.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Thursday :: Happy July

Celebreight

I told her they make her look like the late Bob Saget

We've had an action-packed time of it since the events of my last post.

It will take this entry plus another one to bring my beloved readers up to speed.

Let's start with Dagny's eighth birthday last Tuesday.

We'd already had a party on the previous Friday night, but this was the actual day we welcomed our darling Dagny into the world, so we were determined to milk it for all it was worth.

I asked the lady to please turn the g into an 8

The weather forecast was for stifling, sweltering temperatures accompanied by soul-withering humidity.

So we had planned a trip to the mall -- a place I normally avoid.

But I needed some makeup at Dillard's and Dagny wanted to visit the food court and maybe ride the carousel, and spend some of the birthday money she'd already accumulated.

Things didn't turn out quite as planned; however. For one thing, the beastly weather never materialized.

Mine was the first present on the table

The first clue we had that it wasn't going to be as uncomfortable as the meteorological prognosticators had promised, was when thunderstorms rolled in during the mid-morning hours.

Torrential rain fell for about an hour and then tapered off. I was still at home, enjoying it. We weren't set to meet up at the mall until about two o'clock.

It was a voting day for us -- primaries -- so I got ready and tooled down to the polling place at about one o'clock.

By then it was no longer raining. The sky was overcast and the temperature only in the eighties. It was humid, but bearable.

Dagny requested her picture be taken with her adored cousin Rhett

That trend continued throughout the day.

But the die had been cast, as it were, for our outing, and a day indoors was what we had planned.

At Dillard's I noticed that the Clinique counter display cases were populated with approximately one-third (if that) of the product normally arrayed there. It looked like they were moving out.

Adding to that impression was the fact that there was no salesperson to greet or offer to help you. And where a cash register used to be, there was nothing but blank space.

When you're eight, life can be pretty great

The area being all but deserted, I began wondering if anyone would be willing to fill my order.

Lancôme's counter, just a few feet away, had a salesperson on duty. But she was busy talking to someone (not a customer, based on the snatches of their conversation that I could hear), and ignored me.

Just when I was about to start asking questions of the first employee I could find, a young lady sitting behind the Dior counter nearby asked if she could assist me.

I said that she sure could, and eventually she had located the few things I needed at the Clinique counter, and one item at the Lancôme counter.

Outside on the swing, we took a selfie

The Lancôme salesperson continued to act as though I did not exist, and also ignored the young lady helping me.

That's not the way I'd do it. But okay. Post-covid, rudeness seems to rule the day in some quarters.

The helpful young lady employee apologized to me, saying she had a headache from all of the dust.

She had nothing to apologize for -- she'd been the one willing to do her job, after all -- but I commiserated with her nevertheless.

We added hot-pink candles and a moon-and-stars decoration

What is this all about, I asked, motioning to an area a short distance away that was sheathed floor to ceiling in Visqueen and from which banging and drilling and sawing sounds -- and dust -- emanated.

That's going to be a Chanel counter, she said. We're also getting Bobbi Brown and Jo Malone.

I perked up at the mention of a Chanel counter. Many years ago we had one at our Belk store in the same mall, but it has long since been removed.

If you wanted to shop Chanel, you had to go to Charlotte or Charleston. I'd sometimes pick up a few things at the Bloomingdale's in Chicago when we were there in pre-covid days gone by.

Once again, Audrey plied us with scrumptious candy

So I'm surprised that now, when the cosmetic counters are being drastically diminished in terms of both available product and any semblance of customer service, the market can support a Chanel counter.

It will be open by the end of July. We shall investigate further at that time.

I paid for my makeup and as it wasn't quite time to meet the girls, I went back to my car and moved it to the main mall entrance, and left my purchases inside.

A few minutes later I met up with Audrey, Dagny, Erica, and Baby Rhett at the food court. Everybody got either a snack or a beverage.

Our galaxy theme was thoroughly carried out

That pleasant interlude concluded, Dagny expressed a desire to go shopping at Claire's. Perhaps because it was a mere fifty feet away.

At any rate, to Claire's we went. When I'd had my fill of looking at the tweeny accessories that thrill and delight the Dagny-aged set, I suggested to Erica that we go over to Bath and Body Works, just across the way.

Dagny was still dithering over a few selections, one of which turned out to be a pair of "eyeglasses" with clear lenses (because she does not wear glasses), and cute transparent pink frames. For style's sake alone.

She also purchased a fashion ring.

She read every birthday card aloud

At Bath and Body Works we walked around and looked at a lot of stuff, enjoying the absolute glut of soaps and scents and so forth that is stuffed into every corner of that store.

We left without buying anything.

Later we went back to the food court, where there is a massive and beautiful carousel.

It was not running.

So we sat in the floor-to-ceiling windows there and I took some pictures of Erica and Baby Rhett, who was looking pretty spectacular in a blue-and-white striped onesie outfit that matched his eyes.

Beautiful mother and equally beautiful son

Audrey had talked about making her daughter a birthday cake, but she'd gotten behind schedule and said cake did not end up getting made.

She talked about going home to bake it, but it was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon and much too late to start a cake for a party that would begin six-ish. So we decided to go to Publix and buy a ready-made cake.

Once we'd chosen a cake, we wanted Dagny's name on top. I had an idea and, without letting Dagny hear me, I asked the lady behind the bakery counter to put her name in white icing, but to substitute the number 8 for the letter g.

She did that, and it turned out really cute. Dagny tried to pronounce it -- Da-eight-ny -- but I told her it was a visual cue rather than a spoken one.

At last the eight candles were lit

The girls left then to go back home and regroup, and I went home and had some down time while waiting for everyone to return for the party.

For dinner Audrey ordered Hungry Howie's pizza, a perennial favorite at Chez Weber.

Back were the adorable candy dishes containing a fresh supply of Nerd Gummy Clusters and Sour Neon Gummy Bears.

Back were the galaxy-themed paper plates and napkins and so forth.

Maybe you don't want to know how good Nerd Gummy Clusters are

We chowed down on the pizza, then watched as Dagny opened the remainder of her gifts. 

She was overjoyed with the deluxe art set from TG and me, and right away began using her pencils and pens and chalks and whatnot, with the mega-sketchpad we'd given her at the first party.

Many other great presents were opened, and she read each card out loud.

Then it was time for cake. Erica and I placed eight hot-pink birthday candles atop, and Audrey added a goldtone moon-and-stars decoration.

We sang to her

We sang to our Dagny and she blew out her candles. As we munched our dessert, we reminisced about the day of her birth.

Audrey remembered that Dagny did not cry when she was born. She nestled silently near her mother's chin, eyes wide open, and uttered not a sound.

I have a picture of that, but I just remember that she was beautiful.

After cake, we all went outside, lit a candle, and sat around talking in the twilight-to-darkness while Dagny and a few others splashed in the pool.

What with the cost of pool supplies up by about thirty percent -- Thanks, Joe! -- each swim is precious and there needs to be more of them, to justify the expense.

We got all touristy ... click to embiggen

By nine thirty or so, everyone had gone home. It was such a good day.

But it was time to turn my sights to the remainder of the week, which held more special occasions, and a trip, and various exciting adventures.

I'll tell you all about it next time, but as you can see, I have dropped a wee hint for the curious.

Something tells me that the more astute readers have figured it out. But just remember, you don't know the whole story.

Yet.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

Nothing less than Essie

Essie: A certified, bona fide treasure.

As we are prone to do almost every time one of the children (and even sometimes, one of the adults) has a birthday, we converged on Fort Mill, South Carolina, practically smack dab on the North/South Carolina state line, last Friday night for a party at the Cracker Barrel.

We've been doing this for years, always on Fridays. The tar heel bunch have to travel about ninety minutes, the same as all of us from Columbia. It's an ideal solution logistically and in just about every other way, to the problem of how to get together more often without anybody having to pack a suitcase.

Baby Rhett: So these are crayons.

As we drove north on I-77 towards Charlotte, I was thinking how much I hoped Essie would be working what seems to be her customary Friday night shift. I'd been derelict in taking a picture of her when we were last there, in mid April, for Allissa's birthday celebration, and even in February, for little Andrew's.

So when I approached the check-in station, after being told by the two sweet young women working there that I am a dead ringer for Fran Drescher (it's The Nanny! they exclaimed), and playing along, doing my best impression of Frannie whining Mistah SHEFField, hahahaha!, I told them that our number was twelve.

Andrew and Brittany sent this oversized squishy animal.

Then I said: Is Essie here?

Yes! they assured me, and my heart was so glad. I peered into the restaurant area for my friend, but not seeing her as yet, I texted Cherica and Audag (who were together, about ten minutes behind us) that Essie was there and we'd made sure she'd be serving our table.

Audrey -- a/k/a fun mom -- brought candy. We ate nearly all of it.

They texted back almost immediately, saying that Dagny was especially overjoyed with the news.

(Essie always wants to know who the birthday person is, and learns their name, and gives them special attention throughout the evening.)

It was all because of our darling Dagny's birthday.

I turned around then, and looked again into the restaurant, and there was Essie. She'd seen me and was holding out her arms for a hug. We said our hellos and she bustled off to make sure our tables got put together and made ready.

I declare, that lady is the soul of southern hospitality, as well as of sincere personal warmth.

For a place like that, at a time like this, she is like finding a rose blooming in the desert.

Mama keeps telling me to start coloring.

In due time we had all assembled with our balloons and birthday presents and cupcakes and so forth, and were seated at a long line of pushed-together tables.

(A few minutes before, the manager had come out to the waiting area especially to tell us that we'd be seated momentarily, as soon as Essie swept beneath our tables to make sure everything was spiffy for us.)

Dagny and me: We've been an item for eight whole years.

Essie seemed so thrilled to see our family. She calls me The Queen (I didn't tell her I'm actually The Nanny, haha) and seems to look out for me. Like, before the biscuits were served? She brought me not one but three of those little single-serving containers of apple butter.

I had not even mentioned that I love apple butter. (And I shared with Erica.)

The lovely Allissa.

You know how it is. The drink orders are noted and delivered, and the food orders are taken, and then you chat awhile and the food is brought to the table by at least two servers.

Once everyone had their plate in front of them, Essie began fielding the many remaining requests.

We needed ketchup, extra tartar sauce, honey mustard for dipping, drink refills, more corn muffins and biscuits, et cetera.

I don't know what she was opening but whatever it was, she loved it.

Essie never batted an eye. Just kept smiling and tending to us as though she truly enjoyed it.

I asked her later whether she has other customers who love her and ask for her by name.

She didn't brag at all, but nodded and smiled. It was clear that it pleases her to take care of folks, and they respond with genuine affection for her.

These crayons are fine as far as they go but when do we eat?

Dagny was pretty excited about her birthday, which actually is not until tomorrow. More on that later.

Baby Rhett, encouraged by his mother, took an avid interest in the crayons and activity sheet provided. Next month we will celebrate his first birthday.

The men sat at one end of the table, talking sports. Audrey and Stephanie got caught up in sister conversation on the other end.

If there's not a mylar balloon, you haven't had a birthday.

I like to sit more or less in the middle, always facing the room, with grandchildren on either side. This time it was little Andrew on my left and Dagny to my right.

Audrey had brought two adorable plastic candy dishes and put one at each end of the table, and poured out a bunch of colorful candy, including Big Chewy Nerds and Dollar General Sweet Smiles Sour Neon Gummy Bears.

Little Andrew and I both had the hamburger steak.

Those were a big hit. We all just kept reaching into those dishes. Yes! Candy before dinner! Have you never heard of that? The perfect appetizer.

Speaking of Dagny, she got so antsy for her presents after the meal that finally we said okay okay oKAY it's time to open your gifts!

Me and my buddy Essie.

Andrew and Brittany had sent a giant soft squishy toy that Dagny loved. She had specifically requested art supplies, so for Friday night's gift TG and I got her a fat sketch book and some Twistables colored pencils.

More to come on that score later.

Art supplies are totally the thing this year.

She got lots of nice things, including a twenty dollar bill from a customer of Audrey's. The cash really lit her up. She told me she has a ten dollar bill to go with it, and that that makes thirty!

Indeed it does. Sounds as though her schooling is going well.

(I'm pretty sure that when I was eight, I had never seen thirty dollars with my own eyes. That amount would have kept our entire family afloat for about a week.)

The twenty may have been the highlight of the evening.

Eventually Audrey brought out the store-bought cupcakes and served them on party plates -- Dagny's theme for her birthday this year is The Galaxy, so everything was coordinated.

Even some of the candy -- Nerds Gummy Clusters -- resembled something one might see hurtling through space, assuming one could see such a thing. At any rate they were out-of-this-world delicious.

Sisters: our beautiful daughters.

(If you try those, be careful. They are more addictive than crack and Captain Jack Sparrow put together.)

Eventually it was time to pack up our stuff and go. Reluctantly we said our goodbyes to Essie -- with whom Dagny and I posed for a picture first, in front of the fireplace -- and headed outside.

Nothing could be finer: Menfolk of the Carolinas.

The kids were being so cute while the adults talked on the wide walkway that runs the width of the restaurant, underneath the overhang, that I said it was time to take even more pictures.

Naturally I called the shots. All the kids! Okay all the girls (TG took that one)! Now all the guys!

When the evening had dwindled to its close and we were saying our goodbyes out by the cars, Joel had a presentation to make.

Essie with me and my birthday-girl granddaughter.

He told how he'd searched high and low, more or less, for a certain something that he wanted to give to TG for Father's Day.

And that's when he produced two mint-condition, extremely collectable baseball cards: Hall-of-Famers Al Kaline and Ryne Sandberg.

The Sandberg card is autographed. Ryno! He is TG's favorite player of all time.

Four cousins and a cracker barrel.

As he took the cards, I think TG was fighting back tears. Not over the cards themselves necessarily, but at the kindness and thoughtfulness of the gesture. Well done you, Stephanoel.

Somebody has to walk away first, and somebody did, and soon enough we were all on the road again, heading for our comfortable houses and most of all, our cozy beds.

The blessings poured out on our heads are almost embarrassing sometimes, in both quality and quantity.

In the lineup: Just us girls.

Tomorrow we will celebrate our Dagny on her actual eighth birthday. Since temperatures are in the triple digits all week, Audrey and I plan to take her to the mall during the day.

There's a carousel to ride, and we can hang out at the food court. Audrey wants to visit Bath and Body Works because they're having a sale. I promised Dagny I'd teach her to people-watch, a skill at which I excel.

Above all, it's nice and cool. I detest malls as a rule, but sometimes you must go against your feelings and proceed with a healthy dose of enlightened self-interest.

Carded: TG received some special memorabilia.

Dagny is apprehensive -- this breaks my heart to say -- about our plan because several weeks ago there was a shooting incident at Columbiana Mall on a Saturday evening. But we told her that it will be fine.

I hope we're right.

It will be much too stifling to do anything outdoors until late evening, and that's when we'll order pizza for dinner and go swimming.

Cherica will be there with Baby Rhett, and I'll be covered with Cutter Dry since mosquitoes love me the way libs love lying.

The Birthday Girl

We'll make a fuss over Dagny and sing to her, and there will be a homemade birthday cake that her mother has been planning for weeks, and more gifts since we saved the big ones for the actual day.

Wherever you are, stay cool and do what makes you happy.

I'll report back later with how everything goes.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Monday

Reading something into it

My motto may be nil desperandum (never despair) but this makes me want to

It's not even summer yet but -- here at least -- it sure feels like it.

For the last two days, I've taken my walk first thing in the morning. To beat the heat.

(I do not identify as an early riser; getting up around eight is about as close to that as I have any wish to go.)

But both yesterday morning and this morning, while the temperature was in the mid seventies, the humidity was between eighty-five and ninety percent.

I looked it up and found out that relative humidity increases as the temperature falls toward the dew point and decreases as it rises.

So that explains it.

Listen up

At any rate, on both mornings (after walking at midday on Monday and coming uncomfortably close to dying in the process), there was a nice breeze but the humidity threatened to do me in.

Undaunted, I stuck my AirPods Pro into my ears and cranked up an audio book and got it done. Half an hour. About three thousand steps and no, I do not attempt ten thousand steps per day.

My thirty-minute walk produces approximately ninety-nine percent of the virtuous health-related feelings the pirate can withstand. The other one percent I leave to the realm of diet.

The only problem (if it's a problem) is that, having ditched Audible because I resented being told that nine out of ten books I wanted to listen to were not included in my plan, I have discovered full-length audio books on YouTube.

Without ads.

These books aren't exactly War and Peace; they're the literary equivalent of fast food. But I've managed to find a few that are really good fast food, roughly on a par with Chick-fil-A and Hungry Howie's pizza.

And once my walk is done and I have finished my coffee and morning reading of a non-secular variety, and I've finished a few chores and left a few more for later -- being distinctly disinclined to overdo it -- they make for nice summer listening.

This one is not bad ... not bad at all

That's when I continue listening on my MacBook Pro, without the AirPods, while resting in my chair-and-a-half recliner with Rizzo by my side, and a second tab open to World of Solitaire where I'm playing Addiction -- one of the more aptly named games on the site.

The whole setup is appallingly conducive to laziness but who cares? I refuse guilt like I refuse Brussels sprouts, Democrats (read: liberals), football, feminism, androgyny, small talk, and a myriad of other things that, if you knew what they were, would make you mad at me and we don't want that.

Be still, black thumb

Speaking of growing things, this year we opted for rather oversized sword ferns (Kimberley Queen) in our giant cobalt-blue ceramic poolside pots.

Last year it was all pretty flowers but I found the look difficult if not impossible to keep up without pouring money into it all summer long.

The ferns are huge, lush, and seem to enjoy almost full sun. Their fronds swish back and forth in the breeze. I've been watering them every day since we've had no measurable rain for a couple of weeks.

You can see two of my three ferns in this nighttime shot taken on May fifteenth

In this nighttime picture that I took during the total lunar eclipse of May fifteenth -- which we all (except Stephanie who was too tired to jump in) watched avidly while group texting and exchanging photos, you can see the sword ferns. The eclipse -- then in its early stages, far from totality -- is the bright light behind the trees at the middle of the picture.

TG is growing tomatoes along the side of the house that no one ever sees because we never go over there.

I did pop round the corner of the garage yesterday and found that in addition to tomatoes, he is growing peppers and potatoes. Sneaky.

Potatoes in pots. He saw it on YouTube. I can't wait until the harvest.

Keep you posted.

Back to apostrophe school

You may be wondering about the photo at the top of this post, and what I'm on about.

TG and I were in East Tennessee in early May, attending a wedding. Before heading home we did a little shopping a couple of hundred yards from our hotel.

We are not overly outdoorsy but we are sufficiently inquisitive

That's when I noticed that the Sevierville Bass Pro Shop (no we are neither fishermen, hunters, nor other liars but we were looking for a souvenir for Audrey, who was looking after our pets) has in their employ at least one seriously apostrophe-challenged sign maker. Not to mention a non-existent proofreader.

I mean, seriously people? Welcome to the Smoky Mountain's Great Outdoor Store? 

What -- there is but one Smoky Mountain? And it owns an outdoor store? Who knew? Such revelations are as astonishing as they are rare.

I can't even. Let's leave it at that.

Chicago is thataway -- to the left (and how)

But we did find a coffee mug for Audrey inside the store -- with a Second Amendment theme. She loves it.

Just nearby was the stadium where the Smokies play. They are a farm team for our favorites, the Chicago Cubs. In the picture you can see the top arrow pointing to Chicago and the MLB, a mere five-hundred sixty-eight miles away.

The gift shop was open. We went in and found a t-shirt for Dagny and a key ring for TG.

Welcome aboard the patriot train

Another recent obsession is Ancestry dot com. Many years ago, after my father-in-law died, I did a free trial and poked around a bit, but never committed to a paid membership.

When my half-brother Mike and his daughter Shelby came to see us in late April, I picked the thread back up and went for the paid subscription.

I wanted to produce a mini-McManus family tree to give everyone who came to the party.

That has led to many hours of research both interesting and mildly frustrating. IYKYK.

While going back through my father's line recently, I found that it is possible (I don't know the extent of the probability but I'd wager better than seventy percent) that I have an ancestor who was a Patriot.

If I keep mining for gold, I could hit pay dirt

That's right! I could be a Daughter of the American Revolution! This would be through my five times great grandfather (if I am in fact related to him in that way), Patriot Charles McManus (1747-1830), who fought in the Battle of Camden, South Carolina, on August 16, 1780, among other places on other dates in that glorious conflict.

I told my friend Joyce at church, who sits in front of me with her beloved husband Leon, that if I find out it's definitely true, she will have to curtsy to me. Just kidding! Don't flip out.

(Turns out the aforesaid beloved Leon is himself a bona fide Son of the American Revolution. So I guess I'll be the one curtsying.)

But the same goes for you lot. Don't call your local chapter of the DAR to complain or start practicing your curtsies yet; I have a lot of work to do before I can claim the honor with zero doubt. Such an interesting thing to think about though; don't you agree?

Ah well.

Back to solitaire and audio books; I don't have to go anywhere until tomorrow.

Cheers to the birthday girl

But tomorrow -- Friday -- we will travel again to Fort Mill, South Carolina, where we will meet up with the tar heel brood for yet another birthday celebration.

This time it's for Dagny, and the party is one of two -- the early one, on a convenient date for the relatives. Her actual eighth birthday is next Tuesday and we'll do a proper party on that day as well.

We've bought her a big-ish present for Tuesday but I'll have to come up with something small for Friday night.

And of course we'll take along a balloon, because we always do. And we hope to see our friend Essie, and I promise to take her picture this time, so that you can see her smile.

There will be pictures of the rest of us too -- especially of the birthday girl, about whom it can certainly be said that she loves life and embraces it the way we all should.

How can she be eight? If you are able to answer that, you're smarter than the pirate.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Thursday

While we live, we remember

I got this patriotic gnome at Hobby Lobby ... killer legs and all

Apologies for going AWOL for a week. The pirate has been distracted, preoccupied, and ... well. Busy.

A week ago Monday -- May 23rd -- I drove the ninety minutes to Rock Hill, South Carolina, to meet our Stephanie, who was bringing Allissa to me.

Erica and Baby Rhett came along. We met up at a McDonald's on Dave Lyle Boulevard and had a snack before Allissa transferred her belongings from her mother's car to mine, and we set off for home.

Several years ago, each of my tar heel grands spent a week with me in the summer. We hadn't done it this way in quite some time, and I don't think the other two will be coming, so we were all excited.

Baby Rhett in Audrey's arms by the pool on Saturday evening

Upon reaching home and after getting Allissa settled into the upstairs guest room, we welcomed Audrey and Dagny for coffee and cookies. Rain had set in and we sat out on the front porch to enjoy it.

Later, I made barbecued chicken for dinner. We all had generous helpings of salad; TG added a baked potato.

That night Allissa and I sat for hours looking at Ancestry dot com, researching her dad's side of the family. We unearthed some pictures of her relatives and poked around in the past, and it was entertaining.

Tuesday was a big day. We had planned what might be described as an ambitious shopping trip -- we were in search of gifts for two graduations, one person laid up in the hospital after a car accident, a wedding, and two birthdays. 

It slipped from my grasp

Our first stop was Dollar General, where Allissa helped me pick out all of the greeting cards I would need. Father's Day, anniversaries, birthdays, get well, wedding, graduation -- I think I bought at least a dozen cards.

That was exhausting so our next stop was Starbucks. We sat in the window and enjoyed our coffee beverages -- a tall latte for me and a venti something with at least six words in the name, for her. Caramel and whipped cream were involved.

We planned our attack for the rest of the day. It was decided that we'd hit Hobby Lobby first, since we needed to look for one of our birthday gifts there.

(After years of having to drive across town to shop at Hobby Lobby, we now have one a few miles from my house. It is wonderfully convenient.)

I found the beaded star mat at Home Goods last year and the flatware caddy this year

That task accomplished, we put our purchases in the car and walked thirty yards to Dollar Tree for gift bags.

Only, when I got up to the till to pay for my choices, I found that I had lost my wallet.

Well, not a wallet exactly; it is more like a tiny patent-leather envelope just big enough for my driver's license and a few credit cards and some folding money. It snaps shut.

(It's not my proper wallet -- that would be the leather Frye Jenny leather wallet in plum, which I bought in 2016 and which is so ideal that if it ever wears out, I shall endeavor to buy another exactly like it -- but I had downsized my purse to a small clear bag that I like to take shopping because I can see everything that's in it. My Frye Jenny fits inside but it's tight, especially with my Ray-Ban sunglasses case, which is largish but necessary to protect my beloved Jackie Ohh sunnies.)

The clear plastic purse in question

So I'm at the till at Dollar Tree and I realize that it's true what my eyes are telling me as I rummage feverishly: My tiny card-and-cash carrier is NOT in the purse.

I looked at Allissa. Run, I said, back down to Hobby Lobby and see if I left it there. She obeyed.

And even though I knew that wasn't what had happened, I soon followed her. My fears were confirmed: my little wallet was not at Hobby Lobby. It wasn't going to be that easy. I sent Allissa back down to Dollar Tree to look around on the floor for what I'd carelessly lost.

I returned to the car and checked to see if the wallet was in the bag containing my Hobby Lobby purchases. I knew it wasn't but I did it anyway. I was right; it was not.

All you need is love ... and some common sense

In the back of my mind, I knew what had happened. After putting the Hobby Lobby bag into the car, I had walked towards the Dollar Tree. When I got up under the overhang and no longer needed my sunglasses, I had reached inside my purse for the sunglass case.

And that's when I had inadvertently flipped my little wallet out onto the sidewalk.

Only, I did not see it on the sidewalk, although I had walked there twice now: when I ran back down to the Hobby Lobby, and when I returned to the Dollar Tree. I did not stop to inspect every inch, but if it had been there, surely I would have seen it.

I re-entered the Dollar Tree and retraced my steps to the back right-hand corner of the store where I had selected three gift bags.

My wallet was not on the floor. But the strangest thing happened.

It would have been devastating to lose my REAL EYE DEE

Allissa was already there, looking. And although she had not found my wallet, she had found someone else's.

It was a small turquoise leather ladies' fold-over wallet stuffed on both sides with multiple credit cards -- like mine, it was not much bigger than the cards themselves. It had been lying on top of a random Dollar Tree cart full to the top with odds and ends, then left parked by the gift bags.

We were stunned. We have to take this up front, I told Allissa, but my mind was still racing with panic over the whereabouts of my own wallet, stuffed with cards and a considerable amount of folding money.

Back up at the front of the store, still frantically searching for my lost item, holding someone else's lost item, I was about to despair when I heard a female voice.

Our Erica had a birthday on Memorial Day

Ma'am, are you looking for your wallet? A lady was walking towards me, holding my sparkling REAL EYE DEE aloft.

I nearly fainted. Apparently she had found it out on the sidewalk and was wondering what to do, when another lady who had been inside the Dollar Tree and noticed our frantic search, told her that I was still in the store.

She assured me that she had removed only my driver's license from the tiny wallet, and of course she could see that it was me. I was even wearing the same dress as in my picture taken on two twenty-two twenty-two.

I thanked her profusely for being so honest, and we chatted for a moment, and then parted ways.

Only if you have had such an experience can you imagine how profound was my relief. It wasn't so much the loss of the money as of the cards. IYKYK.

My 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air in firecracker red ... I love model cars

(The whole thing reminded me of that day many years ago when I lost my right-hand diamond ring in a cemetery. I'll never forget it.)

Back at the till to pay for my gift bags, I turned over the turquoise folding wallet to the cashier. She just called about it, the young man told me, waving a small piece of paper where he had written her contact information.

I was grateful for the opportunity to help her as someone had helped me.

Still praising the Lord for the return of my important things, but inwardly despising myself for my stupidity in losing them in the first place, I suggested to Allissa that we drive across the parking lot to Marshalls. It was not on our list of destinations, but we did it anyway.

I have a jump on the Fourth of July ... but I'll do more patriotic decorations outside

And I'm glad we did, because it was there that we found a pair of casual summer shoes that she loved, and I bought them for her.

The rest of the day involved shopping at Home Goods, Old Navy, and TJ Maxx. We found almost all of the gifts we needed, plus a few extra things just because.

Our last stop was intended to be the grocery store, but first we needed a cold drink and a snack. We were parched and hungry.

We went to a Circle K where we bought Polar Pop soft drinks. Allissa picked out a bag of chips.

I found some beautiful scented candles at Home Goods

Having kept body and soul together thusly, we went shopping for real food. TG loves taco salad and Allissa was very much in favor of that for the evening meal, so we needed tomatoes and tortilla chips and lettuce and so forth. I like it because it's easy.

In the line to pay for our groceries, the lady behind us made a comment to me and I answered back -- something about prices -- and we were kind of giggling and getting along famously in the moment, as frequently occurs (strangers talk to me ... maybe they can tell I am good at it ... I'll thank you not to sneer).

Then, just as I was paying and was almost on the way out, she thought it prudent to reveal that a shooter had killed fourteen children at a school in Texas that morning.

I'll never forget the moment I heard that news; it will be the same as always remembering (if you're old enough) the day that JFK was assassinated, or the day the towers fell, and the days of other massacres.

I found blue and white, but no red

Stunned with that awful reality, I drove home with my granddaughter and our shopping haul.

We brought in the groceries and started supper and fed Rizzo his afternoon snack and went through all of the motions of eating and doing the dishes and settling in for the evening.

But in the back of my mind that night -- and in the coming days, and even today -- ran the constant thought of what I had lost and found that day, that was of value to me, compared to what the parents and family members of those children had lost and would not find again.

Of course, as the week went on, there was even more loss. The news got worse instead of better. It cast a pall over everything we did because it was never far from our minds -- the endless suffering. The fathomless loss.

This is my semi-homemade macaroni and cheese

I thought, while Allissa and I were busy buying graduation gifts and birthday gifts and a wedding gift, those children and those women were enduring things that we have trouble even imagining.

The children won't have graduations or weddings. No more birthdays. God, please help us. Be with their families and with their friends.

On Wednesday, Allissa and I left in the mid-afternoon for my regular hair appointment (every fifth Wednesday), and she got her bangs trimmed after Alan was done with my hair. In the evening, we went to prayer meeting at church. It had been Dagny's last day of school, so that night she was coming home with us.

(Although they are more than six years apart in age, Dagny and Allissa are best friends and beloved cousins).

This sparkly swag covers all the color bases ... later I added the Happy Birthday banner for Erica

After church, TG and I took the girls to Chick-fil-A for supper. The CFA nearest our house has never reopened its dining room since covid and the takeout line wraps twice around the building and you wait forever, so we went to a location nearer our church where the dining room is open.

(A few days later while out and about, we noticed that "our" Chick-fil-A has been closed for a rebuild and will open again in the fall. I hope we get our dining room back.)

On Thursday, the girls and I had a two-pronged mission: to decorate the kitchen and dining table and ledge with a patriotic theme, and to shop for the groceries we needed for the following Monday's Memorial Day celebration.

It would be Erica's birthday on the same day.

Clancy's chips from Aldi ... we like them

Our decorating accomplished, we set out for Aldi. We love their Clancy's potato chips -- especially the sour cream and onion. We got some of those, plus BBQ and plain.

Then we went to Walmart for the rest of our groceries and a few more gift items.

Back home, with a lowering sky threatening rain, I made spaghetti sauce for that night's supper. We had been in touch with Erica and it was decided we'd all meet up at Starbucks for afternoon coffee.

Once at Starbucks, we ordered and then began enjoying Baby Rhett and our coffee. We'd wanted to sit outside but a cloudburst had left everything more than damp.

Precious Baby Rhett spends a lot of time getting loved on

But Baby Rhett was in hyper-vocalizing mode, ten-month-old version, and at such times he becomes unbelievably shrill. To be honest, it is earsplitting. the Starbucks was full of people sitting on their own, looking at their laptops. I felt badly that we were so noisy.

So we went outside and sat on the wet chairs anyway. It was fine and in fact it was most enjoyable. We just love being together.

In due time Erica headed for home and we girls returned to the house. I turned the stove on low beneath the spaghetti sauce and made the pasta, plus small salads and spicy toast from French bread buttered and sprinkled with a tiny bit of Tony Chachere's Creole Seasoning, then popped under the broiler to brown.

We ate with gusto -- Dagny practically inhaled her plate of spaghetti, one of her favorite meals -- and then while I cleaned the kitchen and sat down for a rest, TG played dominoes with the girls.

The girls and I found this cute summer gnome at Aldi for three forty-nine plus tax

I was in the sun room relaxing in my chair, Rizzo and Sweetness beside me, when I realized (it was dark outside) that TG and the girls had gone out by the pool.

Soon I heard major splashing and realized that the girls had decided to swim. The pool was not strictly ready -- it needed a proper cleaning, which TG would do on Saturday -- but they didn't care.

They must have jumped off the diving board thirty-five times. At least that's what it sounded like; I never went out there as I was too comfortable where I was. Plus I had no desire to get a jump on mosquito bite season.

After a good sleep, it was Friday. Following deliberations via text between ourselves and Aunts Audrey and Erica, it was decided that we would all congregate at Erica's house for the afternoon and evening.

I think my rustic red lantern needs to be dusted

First though, the girls and I returned to Home Goods because I needed some candles.

We arrived at Erica's in the mid afternoon. Allissa brought all of her things because she'd be staying with Erica for the remainder of her visit. Dagny would stay too, at least for that night.

It was hot enough that the girls changed clothes later and played in the sprinkler in the front yard.

Still later that evening, Chad grilled hamburgers. Erica made French fries in the oven, plus a big salad. TG joined us for dinner and had some of the leftover spaghetti (I'd brought it along), along with a hamburger.

Everyone had a wonderful time.

Chad gallantly provided the birthday cake for his wife

On Saturday I stayed home and had a quiet, uneventful day, which to be honest I was craving like babies crave mother's milk. Audrey and Erica took the children to the zoo, then Audrey brought them to our house where they swam again. We ordered pizza. Cherica and Baby Rhett joined us that evening for poolside chatting and relaxing.

On Sunday morning, after not sleeping well at all, I got my wires crossed in such a way that I was truly distressed. Upon waking as I always do without benefit of an alarm, I was under the impression that the time I needed to begin getting ready for Sunday School was nine thirty.

Only, the time I always begin getting ready is eight thirty. It was nine fifty before TG came upstairs where I get ready, wondering if I was all right (we normally leave the house at nine thirty).

And it was only then, as he appeared in the room where I sat at a vanity table in the window applying mascara, that I glimpsed my wall clock and realized what I'd done.

I found these chunky wooden stars with beaded edges at Home Goods last year

I'd slipped a stitch and lost an entire hour. We missed Sunday School. Don't worry; I was lucid for the rest of the day. At least I think I was.

That evening, after church, I made BBQ beans and a Blender Lemon Pie and deviled eggs, all for the next day. Stephanie and Joel and Melanie and Andrew arrived at eleven thirty and it was one o'clock in the morning before we got to bed.

Monday came and I had a new red dress to wear and Henry was coming, and since I'd planned so well, I had very little cooking to do. 

We had grilled hamburgers, hot dogs, and chicken, plus baked beans and semi-homemade macaroni and cheese, and deviled eggs and three kinds of potato chips plus tortilla chips and salsa, and all sorts of soft drinks buried in ice in the big galvanized pail.

We were all there except for our beloved Andrew and Brittany and Ember. They were missed.

Many gnomes have found their home in my home

Before we prayed for our meal which I served at two thirty, we took a moment to remember a few men known personally or nearly personally to us, who died in American wars.

There was First Lieutenant Ryan Davis Rawl, from our community, who was killed on June 20, 2012 in Afghanistan, at the age of thirty. He was a husband and the father of two, and a graduate of The Citadel, TG's alma mater. We attended his funeral on June 30, 2012, and I took many pictures.

There was Sergeant Sandy Hilly Porter, first cousin once removed of our Chad, who died in Vietnam on July 6, 1970, at the age of twenty-one.

There was Wilbur Stephenson, a great-uncle of our Joel's -- the brother of his paternal grandmother -- who was killed while piloting a plane over the English Channel during WWII.

Henry recalled the brother of a Sunday School friend in his youth, whose last name was Van Clay, who was also shot down over the English Channel during that war.

Nothing says summer like decorations with a patriotic theme

TG wept as he prayed for our country, and thanked God for those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for our now beleaguered and much-maligned freedoms.

Then we ate, followed by hours of kids -- and a few adults -- splashing in the pool, and eventually saying goodbye to Henry, and Erica opening her birthday gifts, and later coming inside to the enjoy the scrumptious birthday cake provided by Chad.

Everyone drove away at precisely eight fifteen. Cherica would be home within twenty minutes, as would Audrey and Dagny. The tar heel bunch -- including Allissa, her trip to Columbia at an end -- had close to a three-hour trip ahead of them.

I went to my chair where I stayed for as long as I could remain awake, then washed my face and brushed my teeth and went to bed.

Nor shall their story be forgot

And now it has been eight days, and the children are still gone. It is June, about to be the first summer that they and their teachers will not see. And the sad story continues to unfold.

Everyone looks for solutions. Politicians on both sides use the tragic moment toward their selfish ends. I still believe that faith in our Creator is the answer. I don't care how unpopular that view is; it is the truth. And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free (John 8:32).

May God Bless America, preserve her freedoms, strengthen her patriots, and confound her enemies both foreign and domestic. Especially domestic.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday :: Happy June